


To Build a Home

by Cecils-tentacles (Heavydirtys0ul)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Demisexual!Cecil, Implied Smut, M/M, blink and you miss it - Freeform, implied trans!Cecil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Cecils-tentacles
Summary: Carlos is used to Night Vale standards of weird, he's not used to waking up to find out he has a son.





	To Build a Home

Things happen in Night Vale that cannot always be explained, sometimes they’re just small things like the clocks not working, sometimes they’re large things like entire dimensions colliding, and sometimes they’re…well they’re _this. _“Cecil,” Carlos’ caramel voice says a little softly and a little panicky, okay…maybe _a lot _panicky “There is a child, in our home,” And Cecil blinks and then sighs a little as he sits up.

“It happens,” He says so casually as if this was a daily occurrence, then Carlos remembers that for Cecil this probably is; after all these years the scientist still manages to find Night Vale offering him surprises. “Does it have a name…I mean, they, do_they_have a name?” The scientist shrugs, gesturing in a way that implies he hadn’t quite thought to speak to the strange child, only that he had been startled to come downstairs to a child sat at the table, blinking in bewilderment.

Cecil drags himself out of bed and pulls on a shirt and then his dressing gown (electric pink, and a few sizes too small for him), before gesturing for Carlos to show him the child.

They’re still sat there, staring at the wooden surface of the dining room table, until the husbands enter the room and his eyes widen, looking up at the occupants of the house. “Have you been thinking about having children recently?” Cecil asks curiously, Carlos flushes a little, his brown skill looking adorably delightful with that pleasant flush. “That’s a yes then, well, it seems we have ourselves a child,” He announces.

“Just…like that?” Carlos asks, “Where did they come from?”

“I can hear you, you know,” The child utters, half sarcastically and mostly unimpressed. They look to be roughly 12 years old “And I don’t know, well I do know some things, I know my name is Quinn, and I know that I’m eleven, and I know that you two are my dads but I don’t know where I was or if I was ever anywhere or anything,” Cecil nods as though he expected something similar.

“It seems we’ve been deemed suitable by whichever force just spontaneously creates children like this, I want to say the vague yet menacing government agency, but honestly it could be anything…this _is _Night Vale after all,”

“This happens regularly?”

“Oh yes, I probably should’ve mentioned it sooner, not all children are born in Night Vale, or at least not in the sense that biology would insist, some just…appear,” Carlos looks fascinated as he nears the child that is both a stranger and _not _at the same time. It takes him a moment to figure out why this child looks familiar and then he makes a strange, shocked and strangled sound.

“He looks like us,” Carlos whispered. And he’s not wrong. His dark curls and brown skin, Cecil’s violet eyes and nose and…so much of this is impossible. And Carlos knows impossible is at least only improbable in Night Vale, and at best perfectly achievable.

“Well, I suppose we should make him breakfast,” Cecil announces “And then enrol him into…uh what grade should he be in?” Carlos blinks at Cecil, and then sighs so heavily that he’s sure that everyone can feel the force of gravity in it. “You make breakfast, I’ll call the school,” The scientist mutters, trying to wrap his head around this situation at a faster pace than he currently is. A child needs his support after all.

\--

A couple of weeks pass and Quinn is settling in nicely, although the married couple are trying to wrap their head around the fact they have almost next to no privacy now.

One night, Cecil wakes to the sound of crying and shouting. Quinn is having a nightmare, and at first he thinks he shouldn’t know what to do, that there is no way for him to know what to do. Then he sits down on the child’s bed and holds him until the crying subsides, the eleven year old holding onto his father’s sleep shirt so hard his knuckles turn white. “I do _not _like librarians,” He informs Cecil, and the radio host lets out a deep laugh, a sound that is comforting for so many and Quinn is no different in that regard.

“Nobody does kiddo,” It just slips out as though he’d said it a million times before, as if there is no barrier between what he knows to be true and what he feels. And what he feels is as though this child has been in his life for eleven years. Something that would be impossible, he hadn’t even _known _Carlos for eleven years.

He puts Quinn to bed and then heads back to his own, where Carlos has the bedside lamp on, his glasses pushed awkwardly up his nose as he offers a small smile “You would think having an almost teenager would be easier,” He chuckles lightly, accepting a soft kiss from his husband as he climbs back into bed.

“No child is easy to raise Carlos, to raise anything you need a little strength,” The Scientist smiles at his lover as if he’d been offered something wonderful, _someone _wonderful. “Besides, once I had to temporarily raise an infant, it’s a cakewalk in comparison to teenagers,” he flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling “All you have to do is feed them, bathe them, change their nappies and make sure they’re hydrated, you can’t say the same for teenagers, they need everything; including mobile phones! And they just wander off whenever you’re not looking,”

“You raised a baby?” Carlos asked incredulously, staring down at his husband. _His _husband, who thinks hot pants are formal wear and who outfits consist mostly of pink leather and fur. The image of this man cradling a baby to his chest and cooing would be more amusing if Carlos doesn’t know how patient and soft he _can _be when needed.

“Please don’t think about it too long, I do _not_want to wake up with a baby on the kitchen table next, one is enough for now,” Although he knows that’s not exactly how it works. After all, it takes two willing participants for a baby to be wished into existence, and he had wished, a lot harder than he cared to admit. The idea of having a child with his husband had been something on his mind since he’d proposed. He just hadn’t quite expected it to happen like this; he suspects he probably _should _have.

“For now?” Carlos teases, pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek, but it lingers a little flirtatiously. Cecil blushes just a little, hidden in the lowlight of the room. Carlos’ hand trails against his forearm and the man rolls his eyes a little. “Scientifically speaking…financially speaking, I mean, there's no reason to wait,” Cecil rolls eyes and accepts a warm kiss. He knows that neither of those things are true, and that he cannot currently carry children so mostly it's a ploy for Carlos to excuse what he wants, then Cecil would have to say he minds, which he doesn't at all. 

“Just…keep quiet,” He mutters, and the breathy laugh he’s rewarded with as Carlos clambers on top of him, is worth the next half an hour of him trying to keep his mouth shut.

\--

Carlos and Cecil hadn’t really considered themselves family men.

Carlos had grown up with a particular set of ideals instilled in him from when he was a child that dictated that he wasn’t ever going to have a family, or at least not one he’d be comfortable with. Up until the age of perhaps thirty, he hadn’t even come out to his parents. When he did they had sighed a little and looked between each other as if they were stupid “Of course, of course,” his mother had shook her head “How did we not notice? All those beautiful girls we’d tried to lead him towards,” Carlos had been close to crying and laughing at the same time.

And then he’d met Cecil. The first man he’d ever been close enough to loving, and then later, the first man he ever truly fell in love with. After the proposal he had started to think about their future, the idea of marriage brings many ideas forward.

And Cecil, he’d grown up in Night Vale. For the most part he didn’t even really know how children…happened. He probably should have learned much sooner than he did. But he’d also never really been interested in things that pertained to having children until he’d fallen in love. Carlos was not his first anything, but it had certainly _felt _like it had been.

He’d also grown up with the notion he would die before all that happened. The world is full of mirrors, after all.

But now, now it feels like it couldn’t have been any other way. In the sense that it was almost like there had not ever been anything else or anyone else, that they’d never been without this child. And Quinn seems happy to exist without questioning that existence, no lingering existential feelings surrounding his sudden appearance, no fear that he may vanish as quickly as he came into their world. So they loved him, they looked after him and cared for him and eventually they simply all forgot he had appeared from nowhere.

People would stop either men in the street and ask them how Quinn is doing, and they’d smile like they’d known him all his life and say something like “Oh you know Quinn, still sarcastic, still wonderful,” And he _is _both of those things. But no, they don’t know him. Still, that is the nature of Night Vale; sometimes people know things that they shouldn’t know and sometimes people don’t know things that they don’t know, and sometimes they _do_. Sometimes, infuriatingly for Carlos and less so for Cecil who has lived in madness his entire life, there is no answer to the question that people are too scared to ask.

But for once, just this once, this one lasting (everlasting) moment, Carlos doesn’t care about the answer to a question that for the first time he is afraid to ask. For once he is happy to live like this, not knowing; because he _loves _Cecil and he _loves _their son. And because science doesn’t always have the answer he wants; and right now, he _wants_ their family. So that's what he chooses.

\--

Quinn Palmer grows up. 

They hadn't been sure if he would, but he does. He ages, he becomes a teenager. And that's the first time Cecil sees Carlos cry over their son, it's the first time he's ever cried over their son but for some reason he cares more about Carlos. Carlos doesn't lose his game face so easily and nothing really quite scares him or breaks his heart because he's strong, but he doesn't cry because he's never been hurt enough (at least, in the time Cecil has known him) to do so. But Quinn raises his voice and shouts and says things he will later apologise for and Carlos bursts into tears. Cecil isn't angry with Quinn, he knows he is upset too, so he pushes down that protective instinct because he has to care for both his child and his husband. Both things he has been doing for years. 

"Sit down," he speaks firmly, voice deep the way it is when he is speaking on the radio, it isn't angry or upset but it _is_ demanding. Quinn sits, Carlos sits and so does Cecil. "It doesn't matter how angry you are, please don't speak to us like that, we want to help you Quinn but we also...we're not here for you to use as a punching bag, we're people too," Quinn blinks a little before he nods slowly "Go to your room, calm down, listen to some music and do whatever it is you need to do, then come back to us and tell us what you need, and if you don't know what you need then talk to us about what's troubling you," Quinn nods, picks up his bag and leaves for his room. 

Cecil squeezes Carlos' hand "And you, come here and cuddle me until you feel better," Carlos smiles and wipes his eyes before standing then sitting in his husband's lap, burying his face in Cecil's bright white hair. 

It turns out, later, that Quinn had been bullied for being what the youth were dubbing as "Wishing children," Children who are neither born nor created but seem to just appear out of sheer hope. "But don't you see?" Cecil sighs softly, squeezing his son's hand gently "You came into this world because we _wanted_ you enough for that to manifest itself into you, you were wanted _so_ badly that you defied all laws of science and whatever other smart things Carlos will say..." Carlos snorts a little behind Cecil, where he's stirring the pot of dinner he's making. "...To be with us, Quinn," Quinn gives a small smile "And I'm sorry they can't understand that, but we love you, and if you need municipally approved combat training then I am more than happy to make the appointment, I'm fairly handy with a sword myself.."

"Cecil _no!_ We are _not_ teaching our child to resort to violence!" The two start to bicker a little, and Quinn can't help the small smile. Yeah, these were his dads alright, no matter how or why he's here, no matter what steps were made for him to be there. He was home, with his dads, even if one of them is a little strange (No, he doesn't mean Cecil).

\--

On his sixteenth birthday, Quinn asks Cecil why he has three eyes. "How did that happen?" He gestures loosely to his own forehead, where Cecil has his third eye, brilliantly purple as are his others. The elder man shrugs lightly "Does it do anything?" 

"I can see everything," He explains it so casually, as though discussing the weather or the time of day, "I see all of Night Vale, always, sometimes it's hard to close and even harder to concentrate, but it's handy for my job that much is for sure," Quinn nods slowly. "Why the sudden interest after 16 years?" And there it is, the casual forgetting that Quinn had not been with them for sixteen whole years, but in fact only five. 

"I guess I just never really noticed, I've gotten so used to it I just kept forgetting to ask," Cecil hums in acknowledgement before nodding. 

"Yeah it tends to have that effect, it took Carlos a few years to ask too," That wasn't the only thing, but it was certainly one of them. 

The two descend into a quiet silence; not an uncomfortable one, Quinn pre occupied with his new phone as Cecil stares absently at the model planets hanging from the ceiling; he and Quinn had made them as a gift for Carlos on his birthday and now they hung in the living room as decoration. It's strange how lived in a house can feel when everything gives you memories, even ones that feel like years ago but was only a few months back or the year prior. Time is weird in Night Vale and it means nothing quite often, but Cecil thinks the best memories are the ones that you can't fit into linear time, like they're always happening yet have happened or will happen simultaneously. Time and space mean everything and nothing to him, to Carlos, to their son; they'd learned before Quinn that time isn't always as linear as they want to believe, but now they know for sure that it isn't.

And also they had learned that their minds will do anything to be tricked, if the trick gives them happiness. 

\--

"Hey dad?" 

"Yeah kiddo?' Cecil is halfway through making his lunch, Carlos is beside him as he makes his own lunch, both of them have matching lunchboxes and its actually ridiculously cute that they co ordinate. They're both the same size and width, and have the same planetary constellation across it; however Cecil's is bright pink and holographic, whilst Carlos' is simply scientifically accurate. They both turn around in unison to stare at their son, but any words manage to falter as Cecil's eyes widen and Carlos' thick eyebrows almost disappear into his curls. "Oh, well that's new," Cecil scratches behind his ear awkwardly "Is that my fault, does he have my genetics? Is that the right word?" 

Carlos stares curiously "Well he has elements of our features so one would assume that he does, in fact, carry our genetics, but weren't you born...with your eye?" Cecil nods "So what happened? Is it possible for some things to be delayed? Maybe he had to complete puberty first or...?" Cecil rests a hand on his lover's arm to calm him, his tangent, although excited and positively adorable, was starting to intimidate Quinn quite a bit. "Sorry, I mean, well it's possible for some genetic disorders to be delayed and occur later in life but usually that's only applicable to thinks like cancers or mental illness," But Cecil is not quite typical, and their son is definitely not. 

"Well I suppose all we can do is accept it, it suits you, you look like me when I was your age, except with much nicer skin, you really won the genetic lottery there kiddo," Carlos flushes and playfully shoves his husband "How are you feeling?"

"Could be worse," Quinn sighs, brushing past his fathers "I want breakfast, so shimmy," Yes, he really is _their_ son. 

\--

By the time Quinn graduates high school everyone has forgotten that he simply appeared overnight. People talk about a baby they never met, and suddenly Carlos and Cecil's relationship has been going on longer than they remember. It's strange to have memories that you don't actually remember and then memories that you know existed at some point but have faded over time. Carlos is still a scientist, Cecil is still a radio show host, and Quinn is still their son. Whether or not they want to or can remember things beyond that is something else. But they all mutually decided that they just don't care either way. They're happy, and Quinn is graduating. They're happy and Carlos still questions most things so he should be allowed this little piece of not-questioning. They're happy and Cecil rarely questioned anything in the first place. They're_ happy_. 

And that's all that really matters. In the end, the memories they've made, real or not, are the best memories they have.

Maybe reality is only lovely at a price, maybe that doesn't matter either. 


End file.
